Look, I come in miniature
by Annie Bespoke
Summary: Sherlock gains a new apprentice, and all of a sudden things start to change, but is it for the better? Will be Johnlock, so changed the genre and rating a little bit.
1. Bodies

**I just watched the pilot episode for Sherlock and an idea popped into my head, hope you enjoy it.**

"Tell me again, why this brat is in my flat." Sherlock ordered Mycroft, whilst glaring at the 'brat'.  
"I already told you that he needs to be trained and that I can't think of any better person than you." Mycroft looked down at his brother. The 'brat' sighed.  
"This 'brat' has a name too, you know. I would prefer that you used it."  
"Tell me again, I forget." Sherlock continued to glare at him.  
"Artemis." He said between clenched teeth. The effect was spoiled by him blowing his fringe out of his eyes.  
"Why should I?" Sherlock turned towards his brother, ignoring Artemis. Artemis gazed at Sherlock, having to look up as he did so. An idea occurred to him and he walked over to the chess set scattered across the coffee table.  
"In that case, how would you like a quick game of chess?" He pressed a finger gently on the king. Sherlock moved towards his chair, sitting down cautiously. Mycroft took out his phone and started a call. Sherlock set up the board, putting the whites on Artemis' side. Artemis sat down, putting his elbows on his knees, and resting his chin on his clenched hands. Sherlock mirrored him.  
"Your move." He said smugly, certain in the fact that he was going to win. Artemis stayed silent, simply staring into Sherlock's eyes. At once Sherlock knew what was happening, and his confidence faded. Artemis and Sherlock stayed locked in this position for some minutes.  
"Are you nearly done, I need to leave." Mycroft replaced the phone n his pocket, Sherlock raised a finger, shushing him. He kept it aloft until he placed it on top of the king, gently tipping it over. Artemis smiled.  
"Very good. Where did you learn that?" He asked, already knowing the answer, but asking anyway.  
"I learned the same way you did, apparently. Of course, I'm quite a bit younger." Artemis leaned back and took a deep breath.  
"Five years is not 'quite a bit'." Sherlock glared at him.  
"Hit a soft spot, did I?" Artemis smiled. Mycroft sighed.  
"Are you two finished? Sherlock, will you train him?" Mycroft practically hissed. Sherlock slowly turned his head, pondering. Eventually, after Artemis stood up to leave, he gave his answer.  
"Yes."

* * *

"Who are you?" John stood in the hallway, looking at Artemis sitting upside, down on the sofa. His long black hair almost touched the floor.  
"I'm Artemis Landry." John blinked but didn't move.  
"Wh-why are you in my flat?" Artemis pointed in the direction of the kitchen, shortly followed by Sherlock walking through with two mugs, passing one to Artemis.  
"Mycroft wants him to observe me. Tell me, Artemis, what you see in John." Artemis managed to manoeuvre himself upright without spilling any of the tea, Sherlock stood in front of him. He looked at John whilst sipping his tea.  
"You're an army doctor, been away, not long come back. Still going to a psychiatrist, although you're getting better. Obviously you live here. Not very well off, although your sibling offers you money. Did I miss anything?" Artemis turned towards Sherlock, John's mouth fell open.  
"Yes." Artemis frowned.  
"What did I miss?" Sherlock smiled and walked towards his own chair.  
"I'm not going to tell you, figure it out yourself. That _is _what Mycroft sent you for, isn't it?" John started moving again.  
"How-how did you do that?" He turned towards Sherlock. "It's like having another you, but miniature."  
"I take offence to that. I neither look like Sherlock, or talk like Sherlock." Artemis glared at John.  
"Are you kidding me? You look just like him." Sherlock's phone began to ring.  
"Sherlock." He answered whilst John and Artemis continued their petty argument. He suddenly stood up, hanging up the phone, and walked towards the doorway.  
"Come on you two, we have work to do." He ran down the stairs, leaving John and Artemis to follow.

* * *

"Who's the kid?" Lestrade asked Sherlock, indicating with his head. Artemis glared at him.  
"I'm babysitting." Sherlock walked towards the crime scene.  
"You brought the kid you're babysitting, to a crime scene?"  
"I don't need a babysitter, thank you very much. I am old enough, and certainly capable enough to look after myself." Artemis strode past them. John sighed and carried on walking next to Sherlock.  
"Lestrade, meet Artemis Landry. I guess you could say he is my apprentice."  
"I'm only doing it because Mycroft is paying me, not because I want to be here!" Artemis shouted over his shoulder. He crouched down a couple of feet from the crime scene, rolled up his shirt sleeves and put his shoulder-length hair into a short pigtail. He then began surveying the scene. Sherlock stopped and watched him work.  
"Hello, freak." Sergeant Donovan walked up to them. She frowned. "Who's the kid?"  
"Again, I am not a kid!" Artemis growled.  
"What do you see?" Sherlock asked, moving closer to the crime scene.  
"Young man, early twenties. Overdose, no alcohol, no obvious drug usage. Recently lost a close family member, still grieving." Artemis moved across to the other side of the body. Sergeant Donovan frowned, seeing he similarities between Sherlock and Artemis. "Been out of the house for about four hours, lives nearby. Am I missing anything?" He looked up at Sherlock.  
"No, explain to me how you came to these conclusions."  
"His skin is cool, but he's not been dead long, plus the recent heat should keep him warm. There are small amounts of vomit present in his mouth. He doesn't smell of alcohol, nor is he carrying any. There are no marks around the arterial areas nor any residue around his nostril. The tissues are in his pocket; clearly he either has hay fever or has been crying a lot recently. He isn't carrying any antihistamines, either he took them earlier or he's not a sufferer. His black bags, not been sleeping recently. His unkempt appearance, he usually dresses well and uses product in his hair, not in today. His coat: its thick so he was cold, however he was carrying it, meaning he was too hot. At around 10am the temperature was around ten degrees, so was too cold. Now it is warmer, meaning he didn't need it any more He lives nearby: he was carrying his keys, but he has pockets, so he was readying them to unlock his front door."  
"Oh dear lord, the freak is spawning." Sergeant Donovan practically groaned. Lestrade just stood there with his pen in his hand.  
"Good. Now come on, were leaving." Sherlock moved away. Artemis sighed and pushed himself up.  
"It really is like having a miniature version of you." Lestrade said, following Sherlock.  
"I'm not miniature, I'm just small." Artemis complained. Lestrade looked at him.  
"You're practically identical apart from your green eyes." Sherlock hailed a taxi.  
"Well, we are vaguely related." He smiled before climbing into the back of the cab. John and Artemis followed closely behind.


	2. Money, Money, Money

**Wow this got more views than I ever expected. Still no reviews though, meanies. Anyway, since this was so popular, I decided to continue. So here ya go. PLEASE leave reviews; if you do you will receive a special warm fuzzy place in my heart.**

John sat across from Artemis and Sherlock. About three minutes into the journey he burst out laughing.  
"What?" Sherlock asked but John was laughing too hard to answer. Artemis continued to look out the taxi window. Eventually John stopped laughing, although his face was still quite red. A thought occurred to him.  
"What did you mean, that you were vaguely related?"  
"Hm?" Sherlock glanced at John, before looking at Artemis. "Meet the first ever multi-parent child."  
"Everyone has more than one parent, Sherlock." Artemis remained silent. Sherlock sighed.  
"Let me rephrase that for you then. Artemis has multiple _sets _of parents." John frowned.  
"That requires genetic manipulation, that's illegal."  
"Not any more." Artemis mumbled with a sad look in his eyes.  
"What does any of this have to do with you being related, anyway?"  
"My father was one of the scientists who donated. They wanted to see if they could make a human who was insusceptible to any of the genetic diseases, since they succeeded, they are making it legal." John frowned and opened his mouth to say something.  
"We're here." Artemis got out of the cab.

* * *

"We met up for coffee, yeah, because I liked 'im and he said to meet up. He left early 'cause he didnae feel well, like. We were supposed to meet up again next week." The snivelling woman explained. Sherlock, ever so kindly, refrained from correcting the woman. Artemis looked towards the cafe that the woman indicated to. There was a young woman in the doorway, looking at the crying woman. He walked closer, watching the woman's reaction. She caught him staring and began to look scared.  
"Where are you going?" John asked, Artemis stopped and turned around.  
"Does it matter?" He stood there, his shirt slightly rumpled from the cab drive. John blinked a couple of times.  
"I guess not." Artemis continued walking to the cafe. Sherlock joined John.  
"I need to find out what he was doing before he came to the cafe." He was looking on his phone.  
"What do you mean?"  
"He was out for four hours, John. He was only at the café for half-an-hour, where did he go?" His frustration showed in his voice. Artemis was walking towards them. When he joined them Sherlock looked almost offended that he dared to return.  
"We need to find out where-"  
"I already know where he was earlier." Artemis continued walking past them. Sherlock and John followed. For such a short man, he walked bloody fast.  
"Where? What do you know that I don't?" Artemis remained silent, just continuing to walk. Eventually he stopped.  
"He went to see his lawyers." Artemis explained, walking up to the reception. Sherlock stopped, surprise rooting him to the spot, John tried desperately not to laugh. Artemis talked to the receptionist quietly, his voice low. The receptionist nodded and picked up the phone. Artemis walked back towards John.  
"How did you figure that out?" Sherlock's voice tinged with disbelief. Artemis smiled, it looked almost… evil.  
"First question: why did he go to that particular café, there are closer and better ones. Obviously he was going out earlier in the day and wanted to stay in the same area. Second question: why was he in the area in the first place, he was here because his lawyers are here. Why did he need to go to his lawyers? A close family relative has recently died; he was looking at the will." A man in his mid-forties walked up to them.  
"Are you the men here about Mr Wilkinson? My name is Michael Harris, please come this way." All three followed him into a large office space. When he indicated for them to sit down only John did.  
"Can you please tell us about Mr Wilkinson?" John asked. Mr Harris nodded.  
"His uncle died about a week ago, poor sod. Kevin was left something in his will, so he came to have a look. He was astonished when he found out how much he was to inherit." He started shaking his head. Sherlock had an inquisitive look on his face.  
"How much?" Mr Harris looked up at him.  
"Fifteen million pounds. It turns out that he had been investing and saving all of his life. He had no children of his own, and Kevin was the next best thing, I guess. His niece, however, didn't inherit anything. There was some bad blood there; her mother didn't want her to have anything to do with him. Although she would inherit now that Kevin's dead."  
"Thank you, that's all we needed to know." Artemis rushed through the door, leaving Sherlock and John to follow.

* * *

Artemis slammed his hands down on the café counter.  
"Girl, blonde hair, works here. Where is she?" He puffed, the other two behind him doing the same. The teenager stared at him.  
"She's about my height. Around nineteen years old." There was a spark of recognition in the teenager's eyes.  
"You mean Kerry? She left about ten minutes ago, family emergency." Artemis sped off. Sherlock followed close behind leaving John lagging behind them both.  
"Why… the… hell… are… we… still…running?" He managed to get out.  
"The niece, she inherits fifteen million pounds now. That's motive enough." John followed his train of thought.  
"The girl in the café window earlier was the niece? Then how did she know?" Artemis loosened his hair, rubbing a hand through it. Sherlock, looking the other way, practically mimicked the movement.  
"Kevin and the niece obviously knew each other well enough for him to trust her. He came here for his date and decided to tell the niece what had happened." John frowned.  
"Then how did she kill him? She would have had to have had some sort of notice."  
"She used drugs herself, she was thin but had an unhealthy lifestyle, she should have been much bigger than she is. She used the drugs she had in her pocket and put it in his coffee." Sherlock explained. He took out his phone and started texting Lestrade.  
"I'm bored now." Artemis complained, John placed a hand against his forehead and sighed. Artemis started walking away.  
"Where the hell are you going?" John shouted after him.  
"I'm going back to your flat!" Artemis shouted back.  
"You won't be able to get in!" Artemis held up a key chain, John recognised it and began patting down his pockets.  
"I think you'll find I will!" Artemis hailed a cab and left. John stared after him.  
"Lestrade has gone to find the niece. Where's Artemis?"  
"Erm… going back to the flat." Sherlock looked down at John.  
"Well then, let's go and join him." Sherlock took out his phone and composed one final text before returning to 221b Baker Street.

_Project Artemis is well under way. 30 days until completion. –SH_

_Good, I entrust him to you. Hope all goes well. -MH_


	3. Planning

**This has had more views than my longest story! The apartments that are mentioned in this chapter actually do exist, however I have no idea what happens on the inside, so I'm kinda making it up. It's supposed to come with everything you would expect in a hotel, so I'm basing it on that.**

"I hate you, Sherlock." Artemis mumbled sleepily from the sofa. John looked at him, his confusion clear on his face.  
"I hate you too." Sherlock replied, not looking up from the book he was reading.  
"Don't mess anything up." Artemis fell asleep. Sherlock bounced up, moving over to where Artemis lay, bending down, placed his lips next to his ear and shouted at him. When Artemis didn't so much as twitch, Sherlock smiled.  
"Come on, John. We have a house to burgle." Sherlock ran down the stairs into the heat of the day, John sighing, but chasing after him all the same.

* * *

When they were in the cab that Sherlock hailed, John finally asked the question plaguing him.  
"Did you just drug Artemis?"  
"Yes."  
"Why, for god's sake."  
"I want a look at his apartment."  
"Again, why did you drug him?"  
"I'm bored." John put his face in his hands.  
"God forbid that you get bored." Sarcasm dripped from every word. Sherlock smirked, knowing that John was tagging along.

* * *

"Artemis lives here?"  
"Well, he certainly has the money for it." Sherlock walked up to the front door, letting himself in. He strode past the front desk, looking like he belonged, baffling the poor receptionist. John followed him until they were at the top floor, looking at a pristine white door. Sherlock pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. They walked in and John was stunned.  
"He lives here?" He asked again. The living room was large, sparsely furnished and black and white. Walking into the kitchen and dining room, he noticed a recurring theme.  
"Doesn't the kid have any colour whatsoever in his apartment?" He asked, slightly worried at the fact that everything was either black or white.  
"In here." Sherlock's muffled voice came from the only other room that John hadn't visited. He stopped in the doorway, stunned.  
"It looks like a rainbow threw up in here." John stood there whilst Sherlock looked in every drawer and cupboard. John walked over to the window and admired the view.  
"How the hell does he afford such a place?"  
"He has many parents and many people who want him safe. I don't think he wants to live here, if that's any consolation."  
"Not really. Why would you not want to live here?"  
"The security. It is to protect him from the world and the world from him." Sherlock mumbled absentmindedly, looking inside a yellow box. He shifted the photographs, seeing places, but not people. John looked at the red headboard, and multicoloured bedding, frowning.  
"Why is this room so colourful, when the others aren't?"  
"Like I said, he doesn't want to live here, why else do you think he's been sleeping on our couch."  
"He's been sleeping on our couch?" John's voice was tinted with disbelief.  
"Yes. Again, John, you see, but not observe." Sherlock had put down the yellow box, instead looking underneath the bed.  
"His house is immaculate."  
"That's probably the twice-weekly maid service. Aha!" Sherlock jumped up, clutching a small box in his hand. Slowly, he opened it. He was slightly surprised to see that it was empty, he was expecting the ring to be in here.  
"What?" John asked, leaning closer for a better look, brushing against Sherlock slightly.  
"It's a ring box."  
"It has no ring."  
"Yes, so where is it?" Sherlock's eyes sparkled. He ran out the apartment and down the stairs, all the while clutching at the black box.

* * *

"You still have the ring box?" John asked.  
"Yes, your observational skills astound me." Sherlock leaned against the kitchen table, his eyes level with the box. Artemis was breathing deeply on the couch, still far from consciousness.  
"When did you even pack an over-night bag for Artemis? I didn't see you with it before we go to the cab."  
"It wasn't my first excursion to the apartment, merely the first one without Artemis, he refused to let me in his room."  
"Wait, you've been to Artemis' apartment before?"  
"Oh, do keep up, John." Sherlock placed the box on the table and turned to the sink, filling up a basin full of water. Carefully, he carried it over the expanse of the living room, before tipping it on to Artemis. He jumped up, before realising what happened.  
"What the hell was that?"  
"A bucket of water." Artemis dripped onto the wet floor, John sighed, knowing that he was going to have to clean up after Sherlock.  
"Why did you drug me?"  
"Bored." Artemis nodded, as if this was an acceptable answer, before decking Sherlock.  
Sherlock blinked up at the ceiling, his left cheek was very sore.  
"For such a compact person, you have quite a swing on you." He said, rubbing his cheek and pushing himself up.  
"Thank you." He waited until Sherlock stood up, before decking him again.  
"How many times are you going to do that?" Sherlock's voice showed his anger.  
"Never go in my home again." Artemis' voice held such venom that John shivered. This time Sherlock, wisely, stayed on the floor. Artemis picked up the over-night bag and walked into the bathroom to have a shower.  
"I think he may have broke a tooth."  
"You did kind-of deserve it. After all, you did go into his house, drug him, then proceeded to tip a ton of water on his head."  
"I was bored, and he's been sleeping on our couch for two weeks." Sherlock finally pushed himself up and walked to the freezer, grabbing a bag of ice and then wrapping it in a towel. He moaned as he placed it against his cheek. John sat down in his chair, watching Sherlock. Eventually Sherlock put the ice away. John picked up the newspaper, beginning to read, when he felt a hand on his thigh.  
"John, can you check my cheek, I think it might need medical attention." Sherlock kneeled in front of John, exactly the right height to spark off unwanted thoughts in John's brain. John folded up the newspaper, placing it on the side table. He leaned forward slightly, close enough that he could feel Sherlock's warm breath against his skin. His fingers gently skimmed the swollen cheek, assessing the damage.  
"You'll be fine, a bit painful, but fine." John eventually murmured.  
"I know a great way of getting rid of pain."  
"Painkillers?" John raised an eyebrow.  
"A kiss."  
"What?" John's face clearly showed his surprise, whereas Sherlock's was as calm as ever. He titled his swollen cheek towards John and smiled.  
"A kiss." His voice sent shivers down John's spine. John started leaning in when Artemis strode into the room.  
"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything." He said, standing in the doorway wearing only his dark trousers, the towel on his shoulders to stop his long hair dripping on him. John jerked.  
"Not-not at all." He stammered, Sherlock glared at Artemis, who smiled pleasantly back. Sherlock sighed and went to sit in his armchair. Sherlock whipped out his mobile, and started texting furiously.

_I want him out of our flat, now! –SH_

_It was your idea, dearest brother. –MH_

_NOW! –SH_

_You said one month, think about mummy. –MH_

_I hope you find something unsavoury in your tea. –SH_

_Charming as always, I see. –MH_

Artemis quickly did the same.

_I hate you right now. –A_

_Ah, but yet, you stay in his flat. –MH_

_You're paying me to! –A_

_I'm counting down the hours. –A_

_What are you at now? –MH_

_15 days, 14 hours and 23 minutes. –A_

_I thought you said hours. –MH_

_Always lovely talking, Mycroft. –A_

_Isn't it just? –MH_

_I am currently planning fourteen different ways to kill you. –A_

_Maybe you and Sherlock should collaborate. –MH_

Artemis frowned, looking at Sherlock, who studiously ignored him. John just hid behind his newspaper.

_How many ways can you kill Mycroft? –A_

_Currently, 302. –SH_

_I want a list. –A _

**I promise there is a reason I am concentrating on Artemis, I have a plan, it may not have many dead bodies, but it is a plan! **


	4. The Beggining

**Right now, I'm kinda pissed off at Sherlock, I mean how does he get his hair to do that! I can put whatever I freaking like in it and it still doesn't look neat or cute, it looks like I just rolled out of bed! *Pant pant* sorry about my outburst there, I'm feeling a little bit tetchy. Plus it's five in the morning and I still haven't managed to get to sleep.**

John and Sherlock stood in their living room, wearing the suits that Mycroft had bought them, waiting for Artemis to finish in the bathroom. Eventually they could hear the soft rustle or cloth as he walked towards them.

"I'm not going." Artemis called from out in the hallway.

"Of course you are, Mycroft ordered it. I suggest you do what he says." Sherlock advanced to the open doorway, his movements silent. He leant against the wall nest to the doorframe, waiting.

"I will not go out looking like this."

"It can't be much worse than what Sherlock and I have to wear." John automatically used the correct grammar, after being repeatedly hounded by them both. Artemis let out a short laugh. All of a sudden Sherlock's arm flashed through the doorframe, grasped Artemis' arm, and pulled. Artemis stumbled into the living room, John promptly doubled over laughing. Sherlock looked like he was restraining himself too.

"It's not funny!" Artemis blushed fiercely. His hair was loose, falling over his shoulders. His green eyes glowed, probably due to the shade of green his clothing was.

"You're wearing a dress!" John pointed out before collapsing and wriggling around on the floor. Sherlock quickly joined him. Artemis astounded them both by tears running down his face. John pushed himself up and practically ran over to comfort him. When he was close enough, Artemis kicked him in the shins. John lay, clutching his leg.

"Serves you right!"

"Ahem." Artemis turned around to see Mycroft leaning against the doorframe, his right hand holding the ever-present umbrella, his left a small ring box. Sherlock instantly recognised it. Mycroft held it towards Artemis.

"I've had it resized for you."

"Why would you resize my engagement ring? It isn't meant for anyone apart from-" Artemis' eyes widened and he backed away. "NO. Not as in, no I will not do it, as in I will not do it if you tied me down and got one of your minions to thrash me three ways to nest Sunday." Mycroft smiled, John pushed himself up and limped slightly to where they were standing, Sherlock joined them shortly.

"Do what?" John asked.

"He wants Artemis to pose as his fiancé." Sherlock deduced, boredom seeping into his voice.

"Why?"

"I think someone is targeting this event tonight, hoping to kidnap someone of high importance. Mycroft is very influential, but can easily manipulate others, however, his fiancé would have just as much influence and be a much better hostage."

"Then, why Artemis?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow, looking at Artemis. Even in the small heels he was wearing he was shorter than John. He glared at Sherlock. John suddenly noticed that Artemis had a _waist. _

"Erm… Have you always been this… effeminate?"

"I'm wearing a fucking corset." He stormed off downstairs, grabbing the box from Mycroft on the way.

"Congratulations, dearest brother. Your fiancé looks wonderful." Sherlock sauntered past Mycroft, who still had a soft smile on his face.

"Come, John, the limo is waiting." John followed Mycroft, instantly obeying.

* * *

_Why the hell are we here? _John kept asking himself as he nursed his second glass of wine. From where his table was situated he could see Artemis and Sherlock dance together. Strangely, the sight hurt more than it should have. They both moved with such grace that it was hard to tear his eyes away.

"So who are you?" A young woman sat down in the seat next to him.

"Doctor John Watson." He responded automatically.

"Jane Aaronovitch, pleased to meet you." She introduced herself, her eyes showing her instant want. Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Artemis glared at Sherlock.

"If you look at me like that, my dear, then we may never invite you to Christmas Dinner."

"Screw you and your fancy Christmas dinner, get me out of here!" Artemis hissed between clenched teeth.

"You know, I would never have guessed how beautiful a young woman you make. And such fine acting skills too, people really believe that you love Mycroft." He received a piercing look for that statement. "Besides, the plan's working. It shouldn't be too long now."

"Good, because you have little over a week left. Then I leave."

"Good."

"Great." They broke apart, pleasantly bowing and curtseying, before Artemis glided over to Mycroft. Sherlock went over to John and the young woman.

"I believe you are in my seat." Sherlock said, icily. The young woman fled, and Sherlock sat down.

"You didn't need to do that."

"We are working, you shouldn't be flirting."

"Working?"

"Yes, we need to identify who wants to kidnap Artemis." They sat down and surveyed the room. It took them some minutes to realise they couldn't see Artemis' green dress anymore.

"Crap." John muttered.

* * *

When they eventually found Artemis, after arresting all of the men and women responsible, he was hanging upside down from the rafters.

"Well, don't just stand there! Get me down!" He wriggled. The dress and corset lay abandoned in a corner, leaving Artemis wearing only a pair of white boxers. Sherlock amused himself by taking photos on his phone. Artemis wiggled around a little more, a look of intense concentration on his face.

"How many knots did you manage to get untied?"

"Five." Artemis grunted. Mycroft strolled in, whistling tunelessly.

"Why are you still hanging upside down?"

"There are so many knots! And it's only been half-an-hour, thank you very much. What took you so long?"

"I wanted to make sure that you were stationary and that the kidnappers had enough time to take you to the heart of their compound."

"You have a tracker on me!" Artemis was turning around slowly, until John, Mycroft and Sherlock could see his hands working on the knots. When he was untying the last knot, Sherlock walked over to the rope tying him up, and cut it. Artemis hit the ground with a thud and a grunt.

"What the hell was that for?" He shouted angrily, he pulled the ropes off himself, checking the abrasions. He stood up, promptly falling into Mycroft's outstretched arms. John, looking at Artemis, wondered whether or not Sherlock looked that cute when woozy. He blinked, remembering whose company he was in. All three men stared at John, making his blush. Sherlock shrugged out of his suit coat and passed it to Artemis, Mycroft helping him put it on. Artemis tugged at the engagement ring, frowning. Mycroft smiled pleasantly while Artemis began pulling in earnest.

"Bastard!" Mycroft walked away, leaving Artemis to stumble behind. Sherlock looked at John, a strange look passing over his face.

"Chinese?"

"It's three in the bloody morning, what Chinese place would be open?"

"I know a place." Sherlock smiled and walked away.

"Of course you do." John muttered under his breath.


	5. Mycroft comes to tea

**This chapter has drug use and hints of what happens behind closed doors. PS I miss the summer, hence this all being set earlier in the year.**

"Mycroft is here." Artemis told John, continuing to lie on the couch.

"How'd you figure that one out?"

"I heard his car pull up outside." The front door opened and Mycroft made his way upstairs.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

"Sherlock is currently out." Artemis opened his eyes and looked at Mycroft. Mycroft walked into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. Sherlock quietly walked up the stairs.

"Your brother is here." John called from behind his newspaper.

"So I see." Sherlock's voice was ice cold. Mycroft pulled four mugs from the cabinet, adding teabags. "Why _are_ you here, Mycroft?"

"Am I not allowed to see my brother for the sake of seeing him?"  
"Not when you have multiple reasons for everything you do." Artemis replied sleepily. John folded his newspaper and sighed. Mycroft placed a mug in front of John and Artemis before walking back to the kitchen and handing one to Sherlock. Sherlock took it cautiously.

"The tea is not poisoned, Sherlock." Mycroft smiled softly, amusement clear in his eyes. Tentatively Artemis took a sip, when he didn't immediately keel over he complimented the blend. John and Sherlock closely followed. They drained their mugs before noticing the smirk on Mycroft's face.

"What did you do?" Sherlock asked.

"Dearest brother, I only said it was not poisoned. I did not say anything about drugged." Mycroft was smirking, Sherlock and Artemis glared in his general direction.

"What does he mean drugged? Your brother drugged us?" John panicked slightly.

"We should just wait it out; he wouldn't want to do anything to compromise himself." Sherlock mumbled, blinking, the drugs already affecting their systems. Artemis seemed to work something out.  
"I've been here thirty days already, the plan hasn't worked."  
"It looks like you took some pretty drastic measures, brother."

* * *

John woke up in a strangely familiar bed. Groaning, he turned over to see his roommate's sleeping face. He shot up. The white sheets fell around his waist, revealing his naked form. He looked at Sherlock again, noticing that he was in the same state. John nudged him lightly; when he didn't stir he used more force. Reluctantly Sherlock woke up. Blinking, he looked at John.

"You're in my bed."

"Yes! Now help me find my clothes." John crawled to the end of the bed, looking for the scattered pieces.  
"Jesus Christ!" He hissed when he saw Artemis on the floor wearing only pants and covered in love bites.

"I hope we didn't do that." Sherlock said from beside him. Artemis moaned and slowly pushed himself up. He looked down at himself.

"Why am I covered in bruises? And why are you two naked?"

"Mycroft drugged us. Be glad that you're still wearing pants." Artemis yawned.

"I thought the whole idea was to get John out of his." He walked out of Sherlock's room, bending down t grab his shirt on the way past.

"What does he mean?" John asked Sherlock, who simply pouted. John's mind started to piece things together.

"He was here to help get me naked?" Sherlock nodded, waiting for the conclusion to finish, he slowly rubbed his back, the slight twinges were becoming uncomfortable. "Did we sleep together?"  
"Yes. You're piecing this together awfully slowly."

"Well, sorry for being stupid… wait… hang on. What has this got to do with Artemis?"

"Mycroft hired him, mainly because he looked like me." Sherlock stretched, reminding John of a cat.

"Why-oh." John's eyes widened. "Why would Mycroft try to set me up with you?"

"I asked him to." Sherlock blinked, willing John to get to the point faster.

"Why?"  
"Oh, you fool." Sherlock pressed his lips against John's, watching his reaction before deepening the kiss.

"Right. Who thought it would be a good idea to hand my trousers on the lamp?" Artemis stormed in, unperturbed by the fact that John and Sherlock were kissing. Sherlock pulled away.

"I don't know, we were drugged. You could have done it yourself." Artemis glared at him. John was sitting open-mouthed.

"I need you to get them down for me." Artemis left the room again. Sherlock sighed and looked around for something to wear. Eventually he found a pair of clean trousers and walked out through the door. John sat in the middle of the bed bewildered.

* * *

Sherlock looked up at the hanging lamp, Artemis mirroring him.

"I blame you." Sherlock looked down at Artemis before reaching up and pulling down the trousers. John padded through, his bewilderment clear on his face. Artemis tugged on the trousers whilst walking towards the kitchen, somehow making the move seem graceful. Sherlock was staring at John, his eyes were smiling. John was actively ignoring Sherlock by trying to find his scattered garments. The kettle whistled, showing it was ready. John eventually found his jeans and his sweater, but his shirt was nowhere to be seen.

"Has anyone seen my shirt?" Artemis sputtered.

"Erm…" He pointed towards the staircase, where the shirt lay, half of the buttons missing and the sleeves almost torn off.

"That was my favourite shirt." He whined softly, holding it to his chest tightly.

"I'll buy you another." Their mobile phones chirped happily from the fireplace.

"How the hell did my phone end up in there?" Artemis asked, concern in his voice. He picked up the small item, gently blowing the soot from it.

_Did you have a nice few days? –MH_

_Days? How long were we out of it? –A_

_Today is June 5. –MH_

_We were out three days?! –A_

"I'm going to kill Mycroft." John muttered after reading the same text from Mycroft.

"Sherlock and myself are already working on a way to successfully kill him without warning the police. We simply cannot decide on a method to actually kill him."

"Really? How long has that been going on for?"

"Seventeen days, thirteen hours and thirty-two minutes." Artemis walked downstairs, calling for Mrs Hudson. Sherlock and John stood in an awkward silence, John was staring at the yellow face on the wall. Artemis bounded up the stairs.

"Mycroft decided to send Mrs Hudson away to Barcelona for the week. The front door is locked and I can't find the keys."

"Do you have keys to our apartment?" John asked, surprised.

"Of course not, I steal yours. Very simple to do." Artemis leaned over the back of the sofa, letting out a small 'Aha' when he found something.

"Are you really going to pick the lock bare foot?" Sherlock asked, contempt in his voice. Artemis ignored him, bounding away.

"So… Last night." John started.

"We don't know that it was last night, it could have been any of the time between when Mycroft drugged us and this morning." Sherlock walked over to the window, pushing the curtain out of the way. "Assuming it is morning."

"Not the point."

"No. The point was that at some point during our drugged state, we managed to tie up Artemis and bite him, then proceed to sleep together. Am I missing something?"

"Yes!" Sherlock frowned.

"What?"

"Why the hell it happened in the first place!" John's face was getting redder and redder, and not from anger. Sherlock smirked, John's reaction amused him greatly. Sherlock walked over slowly, somehow the way he moved just screamed sex. He bent over slightly, his lips on John's ear, and whispered.

"Haven't you noticed? After all, you are the expert on emotions." He walked back through to his bedroom, leaving John standing in the living room, mouth open and clutching his shirt.


	6. I swear

Sherlock's phone chirped happily, notifying him that he had a new text. He ignored it. He was looking down the microscope at Bart's, examining blood and the way it reacted when mixed with certain chemicals. His phone chirped again, he continued to ignore it and continue with his experiment. Soon whoever it was was texting every two seconds. Eventually they gave up and there was a full minute of blessed silence, Sherlock smiled to himself. Then they started ringing. Sherlock groaned and glanced at the screen. Artemis' number flashed. He decided to ignore it. He walked across to the far computer and recorded some data, the phone still ringing behind him. Eventually Sherlock sighed and answered.  
"Took you enough bloody time!" Artemis yelled down the phone, his Scottish accent became more pronounced when he was angry. "Do you know how long I've been trying to get in touch with you?"  
"Yes, it has been precisely twenty-three minutes. " Artemis growled slightly, there was quite a bit of background noise.  
"Where are you?"  
"I'm at a bar. Guess who is with me." John's voice filtered through, he was talking to someone else. Artemis was with John and someone else, someone Sherlock hadn't met. He sighed.  
"Pass me to him." There was some noise as the phone was passed from Artemis' stable hands to John's.  
"Heeeeey!" John had obviously consumed the entire bar's worth of alcohol.  
"Why are you so drunk?"  
"You're not my-hick-minder." John started to hiccup. Artemis was quietly debating with someone in the background. "I can do what I-hick-like."  
"Not if it is supremely stupid and pointless." Sherlock puttered around the lab whilst talking, not keeping still for single moment.  
"Why wo-hick-uld you care?"  
"Did I not make my feelings clear two days ago? I don't know how it could be any clearer."  
"But you're a –hick- sociopath… And I'm not –hick- gay." Ah, the root of the problem.  
"John, pass me back to Artemis." John hiccupped again before complying.  
"Make him leave me alone." Artemis begged Sherlock as soon as he had the phone. Sherlock pressed his lips together, thinking.  
"What would it be worth to you?"  
"Ooooooh, no. I am not bribing you to get your boyfriend to stop crying on my shoulder." Sherlock could hear John reminding Artemis that he wasn't gay. Sherlock smiled an evil grin.  
"Really, so I can just leave him there to cry on you?" Artemis whined softly to himself.  
"Please, Sherlock. Just try not to make my life any more of a living hell." Artemis sighed, sounding resigned to his fate. Sherlock's smile grew.  
"A favour, then. To collect whenever I need it." Artemis grudgingly agreed and then John was back on the phone.  
"What?" John's hiccups had stopped then.  
"I need you at the lab."  
"But I'm drunk."  
"Get Artemis to put you in a cab."  
"But I'm drunk."  
"So you've said." Sherlock's grin was still firmly planted on his face. He started adjusting his microscope  
"Why would you need me when I'm drunk?" Sherlock took a deep breath.  
"Just get over here." Sherlock hung up. He checked his messages.

_John's here, talk to him. –A_

_I don't care if you're busy. –A_

_Really, anytime soon would be good. –A_

_Are you ignoring me? –A_

_Pick up the phone, idiot. –A_

_Pick. Up. The. Phone. –A_

Sherlock deleted the rest of the messages. He started to hum his latest composition, it wasn't quite right yet and it bothered him. His phone chirped happily again.

_Bastard. –A_

_Yes, I believe I am. –SH_

Sherlock waited as patiently as he could for John to stumble in through the door. After the first five minutes he started tapping the table, staring at the door. After the next ten minutes he started to worry.  
"If this is how John feels when I run off, I promise that I will be nicer about it when I get back." Sherlock muttered to himself. This resolution, however, only lasted until the next minute passed on the clock. Sherlock stared at his phone, trying to get it to somehow speed up John's arrival. Sherlock knew that he was being unreasonable, it should take at least twenty minutes for the cab to arrive; he wouldn't manage to get here in ten minutes, not including the time it takes for the taxi to arrive and then the time to get up the stairs… This train of thought was derailed when John stumbled through the door, with help from Artemis.  
"What took you so long?" Sherlock glared at Artemis, when someone else walked in behind them. Artemis glanced behind him, checking that he was still there.  
"Believe it or not, I can't teleport." John started to giggle, slightly manically, as Artemis dropped him in a chair. Sherlock was staring at the man standing in the door. His eyes were scanning him, gaining new information. Artemis sighed.  
"Are you sure you didn't need the help, Artemis?" The man asked. Artemis looked at him and he dropped the subject. The man looked at Sherlock, seeming to understand what he was doing.  
"We should be going now, I'm sure you'll pester me tomorrow." Artemis walked out of the door. The man turned to leave behind him.  
"Are you the person that Artemis was going to propose to?" Sherlock asked. The man turned around in surprise.  
"Propose?" Artemis came running in, picked up a stress ball that John keeps at the side, and threw it at Sherlock.  
"You don't just tell people that." He hissed. The man was blushing slightly, and then looked down at Artemis.  
"You were going to propose?" His lips twitched in the beginning of a smile. Artemis turned as red as a tomato. Artemis took the man's hand and led him out the door. John was sitting in the chair in the corner.  
"Artemis has a boyfriend?" John giggled again. Sherlock stood up and walked across to where he had hung his coat. He slipped it on with the ease that comes with practice.  
"Lets get you home." He helped John up and they staggered to a taxi, Sherlock managing to get one first time.  
"You have some sort of magic power, you know. I can never get a taxi." John mumbled.

When they arrived back at the flat Sherlock helped John up to his room. John managed to get his coat and shoes off by himself, but struggled with his shirt. Sherlock sighed and pushed him, so that he was sitting in the bed. He unbuttoned John's shirt with ease, he decided to leave his jeans on as John wouldn't be happy to find out that he undressed him when he was drunk. Sherlock lowered John so that he was lying down. Pulling the duvet up, he tucked John in. Just as he was leaving John murmured  
"Still not gay." Sherlock chuckled and left the room, silently closing the door behind him.

**I'm not going to bother apologising for this chapter being so late, nor am I going to give you an excuse. I'm just going to post this and forget that it took so long to write (especially as it is so short).**


End file.
